Family Ties
by theatrchy2004
Summary: In the aftermath of the battle with Harm and Secret, life has changed for everyone. All under one roof again, the Bat Family learn how to support each other once again. Sequel to "Of Bats and Arrows." Warning! Character death.
1. Chapter 1

Dick watched as they lowered her coffin into the ground. The moment he dreaded most had arrived. Barbara had left him. For good this time. Dick Grayson stood alone by his wife's grave. The rest of the party had left for the reception at the manor. Dick just stood there, watching as the graveyard workers piled the dirt, sealing Barbara away from his life forever.

When he'd first found her body, he'd been in shock. Blood had been splattered all over the monitor womb. He had tried to wake her, refusing to believe she was really dead. He knew it was ridiculous, but he couldn't help but think that if he'd gotten there sooner, maybe he could have saved her.

_No_, he thought to himself, _then we would both be dead. Where would the kids be, then?_

The kids. His children. Their children. M.K. and Jimmy Gordon-Grayson. Dick was ashamed to admit that, once he'd found Barbara, he had been completely oblivious to their presence. They had been there when she died. There must have been just enough warning for Barbara to get them out of Oracle's Lair before...

Dick's body racked with sobs. He fell to his knees on the soft earth. He hadn't realized how close he'd come to losing all of them. But then, the twins hadn't realized how close they'd come to losing him in that battle against Harm and Secret. Dick had wanted to die, had wanted to be with Barbara. It had been Martha who'd literally talked the life back into him. Jimmy and M.K. Who would take care of Jimmy and M.K. if he died? Of course, Dick knew it was in his and Barbara's wills that Tim take the kids. Tim, however, was in a coma now. It was anybody's guess when he would come out of it… _if _he would come out of it. But even not knowing Tim's fate, Dick knew he had to live for his children. He'd lost both his parents, and he loved Bruce for taking him in. He loved Selina too, for caring for him like he was her own, but he understood, as Bruce did, that nothing could replaces one's actual parents. No matter what, he had to be there for M.K. and Jimmy.

Purging his grief, pain and guilt with his tears, Dick did not notice the presence behind him until he felt the a strong hand on his shoulder. He turned to see Bruce standing over him.

"Son," he said.

"She's gone, Bruce," Dick barely squeaked out.

Bruce nodded.

Dick looked at the ground again. "The last time I saw her... alive... we... we fought." Bruce stiffened behind him. "She didn't want me to take the mantle. She didn't want me to become... you." Dick swallowed. "I can't do it, Bruce. I can't take it. If nothing else, for her, I can't... for her." He looked up at Bruce. To his surprise, he wasn't receiving the patented Bat-glare.

Bruce nodded. "I understand." He looked toward the cemetery gate. "We should get to the reception, Dick. People are expecting you."

Dick's face tightened. "I don't care about..."

"You are not the only person grieving, Dick. Back at the manor, she has friends mourning her departure. And family. Her father. Your children." Bruce snapped. Then his tone softened. "There are people there for you, too. You are not alone in this, Dick." His eyes bore down into his son's. "You do not have to go through this alone."

Dick stared at Bruce in wide-eyed shock. "Okay. You got me. I'm being a bonehead. Since when have you been all in touch with your feelings?"

Bruce grunted and started slowly toward the gate. He still wasn't used to the cane. "Come on," he ordered.

Dick sighed and followed.

***

The reception was starting to wind down. Bruce was right; he did have plenty of friends and family to support him. Of course, Roy and Wally—the surviving original Titans—were there, as were Barbara's own costumed teammates, Dinah and Helena. Other members of the hero community, who knew that Barbara had been the all-knowing Oracle, were there. Alfred was seeing the last of the guests out.

Dick excused himself and made his way upstairs to Tim's room. Bruce had brought Tim here from the JLA medical unit as soon as it was deemed safe, and Dick felt a great need to see his little brother. When he opened the door he found Cissie, Tim's fiancée curled up in the giant armchair next to the bed.

"Dick!" She'd been crying and quickly tried to wipe away the tears. "I didn't see you there."

Dick flushed. "Sorry, I didn't know you were in here. I-I just needed to see Tim."

Cissie smiled. "I understand. I… I'm sorry I didn't make it to the services."

"It's okay."

"I just... it wasn't that long ago, I had to bury Mom."

"I understand, really. And someone needed to be here with Tim."

Cissie nodded. "I don't want him to be alone when he wakes up."

Dick swallowed a lump in his throat. He looked at Cissie, really looked at her. She looked awful. Bruce was right. He'd been so absorbed with his own grief he hadn't been able to see all the pain around him. Dick took the opportunity to provide her some of the comfort others had been providing him with all day.

"Hey, Ciss, you know, if you ever need anything, you can come to me, or Bruce, or, well, any of us really. You don't have to be alone."

Cissie smiled again. "Thanks, Dick. But, I'm not alone. I have Tim."

Dick pursed his lips. "Ciss... when's the last time you ate?"

Cissie sighed. "Don't worry, Alfred has been keeping me well-fed… especially since I'm eating for two now."

Dick nodded. "Alfred's good for tha—two?"

Cissie flushed and looked away from Dick. "I'm pregnant."

Dick was shocked into silence. At first. "Omigod! That's great!"

Cissie blushed more deeply.

"How long? I mean, how long have you known? How far along are you? Omigod!"

Cissie chuckled. "I haven't known that long. Actually," she frowned, "I found out... that day."

Floored, Dick plopped into the extra chair by the window. "Wow. So, Tim didn't know, did he?"

"Actually, he knew before I did."

Dick quirked an eyebrow.

"J'onn sensed another soul among us, and as a precaution, Superman did an X-Ray scan and saw that I was pregnant. I rushed out to battle too quickly, though; I was so mad about what Harm did to Dad. Jon told Tim. It's why... it's why this happened." She took Tim's hand.

"Cissie, this is not your fault."

"If I had known," Cissie let her tears fall, "I wouldn't have gone out there, and Tim wouldn't have had to go out of his way to protect me, and he wouldn't be lying here like this."

Dick knelt before his almost-sister-in-law and hugged her tight. "Ciss, if I know Tim, and I think I do, he would have gone out of his way to protect you, baby or not."

"I just wish there was something I could do," she sobbed into his shoulder.

"You don't do anything. Tim is strong. And stubborn. Hell, he's probably just enjoying this nap and will wake up when he damned well pleases. Just to see the look on Bruce's face."

Cissie snorted a laugh.

Dick continued. "Listen, why don't you go take a nap or a bath or something?"

Cissie pulled out of the hug. "If Tim wakes up..."

"I'll stay with him. If he so much as twitches I'll come get you right away."

Cissie considered. She couldn't remember the last time she'd showered. She'd been by Tim's side, pretty much twenty-four seven. She'd had no reason to leave. Alfred had been bringing her meals up here, and Tim's room had an adjoining bathroom.

"You promise you'll call me if _anything_ happens?"

Dick held one hand over his heart, his other in the air, as though he was taking an oath. "Scout's honor."

"Okay," she gave him a quick peck on the cheek. "Thanks, Dick."

She got up out of the chair, stealing a glance back at Tim before she made her way to the door.

Dick took Cissie's place in the giant armchair, and regarded his little brother. Tim was a pale guy to begin with; now he seemed translucent. His big brother shuddered.

"Timmy, you gotta wake up," Dick muttered. "Cissie needs you. Your kid needs you... _I_ need you."

When Tim didn't respond, Dick sighed and leaned back in the chair. He ached for the days when they were all well and happy.


	2. Chapter 2

Bruce sat in the study reviewing the doctor's latest reports on Timothy's progress. Fortunately, the brain activity was there; the young man just wasn't waking up. There was no telling when he would. It had been a week—and what a week!

Bruce had gone from living in the manor with only Alfred for company, to having what amounted to a full house. After his kneecap had been shattered, Selina had actually returned home. Their marriage was still on the rocks, but they were trying to work things out now. Shortly after that, the whole fiasco with Harm and Secret had occurred. Few of them had made it out of that unscathed. Barbara was dead, Timothy was in a coma, and Dick was lucky to be alive.

Bruce sighed and rubbed his eyes. He'd almost lost his son... both his sons. His daughter, on the other hand... Martha had proved him wrong. She'd emerged from the battle with nary a scratch, and successfully taken down Harm, albeit with the aid of the metas. For that reason, she now wore the mantle of the bat, patrolling the streets of Gotham. Bruce still worried about her, he always would, but now was the time for unity in his family. There was no use fighting.

And so, Bruce found himself surrounded by his family: Alfred, Selina, Martha, Dick and Timothy, as well as his grandchildren, Jimmy and M.K., and Timothy's fiancée, Cissie King-Jones. Leslie and Jonathan Kent also visited frequently, both to monitor Timothy's medical progress, and to check up on Cissie.

A rather loud snore from the aging Persian on his lap broke Bruce out of his thoughts. He scratched the feline between the ears.

"Easy, Cat," he muttered before he was interrupted again by a commotion outside his study doors.

"Where is he?" Jack Drake came bursting through the doors, followed by a ruffled Alfred.

"My apologies, Master Bruce," Alfred began.

Bruce held up his hand. "No apology necessary, Alfred." He turned his attention to the fuming man in front of him. "Jack, what can I do for you?"

"I know he's here! I know my son is here! How come no one notified me? He should be in a hospital!"

"We tried to reach you, Jack," Bruce lied. "You're a difficult man to get a hold of."

"Why isn't he in a hospital?" Jack never broke eye contact with Bruce.

"I assure you, Timothy is receiving the best care possible, and as to why he is not in a hospital, I felt he would be more comfortable here than in a cold hospital where he would wake up alone."

"I want to see him. Now."

"Of course," Bruce smiled. "Alfred, please show Mr. Drake up to Timothy's room. I'm sure you'll find Timothy's accommodations satisfactory, Jack."

Jack didn't reply, but simply glared at the man who had stolen his son from him before he followed the butler out of the study.

Bruce's smile faded once Jack left. He stood up stiffly, grabbed his cane, and rather upset Cat, who had been content to sit on his lap. He followed Jack and Alfred out and up the stairs, keeping his distance, but ready to intervene should Jack get out of line.

***

Alfred dutifully led Jack Drake up to Timothy's room. As usual, he kept his opinions of the man to himself.

He knocked on the door before he opened it slightly. "Miss Cissie, there's someone here to see Master Timothy."

Jack did not like the sound of this. Who was this 'Cissie' person? There was a muffled response from the other side, then Alfred opened the door all the way.

Jack entered the room in a hurry. He saw his son, lying in a bed, paler than the sheets that covered him, and hooked up to tubes. He felt a lump in his throat.

"You must be Tim's dad," stated the young blonde woman who stood before him.

"And who the hell are you?" Jack snapped.

"Cissie King-Jones. Your son's fiancée."

Jack's eyes narrowed. "He's never mentioned you to me."

Cissie sat back down in her armchair and smoothed some of Tim's hair back. Jack noticed the sparkling diamond ring on her finger as she did so. "Tim doesn't tell you lots of things," she said simply.

Jack approached his son's bed. "Tim would have told me he was getting married."

"Would he? When's the last time you really spoke with him?"

"I talked to him just a couple of weeks ago!"

"To go over the details of a business transaction. You didn't bother to ask how he was doing, what he was up to… He assumed you didn't care."

"I care that some gold-digger is trying to get her hands on the family fortune."

Sharp blue eyes darted angrily at Jack. "I'm no gold-digger, Mr. Drake. Tim and I fell in love." She smiled softly at the dark haired man in the bed.

There was a moment of silence. Jack spoke first. "I'm having him moved into my care."

"You can't do that." Cissie's heart started pounding.

"I'm his father. I can."

"I'm his—"

"Not his wife. Not yet. I plan to keep it that way."

"He's already been moved once. The doctors say another move could hinder his progress," Cissie tried to remain calm.

"I don't care what the doctors say!" Jack lost his cool. "I will not have my son in the home of strangers when he needs me!"

"When he needs you?! You're a little late for that! He needed you when his mother died! Where were you then? How about when his girlfriend died when he was in high school? Oh yeah, that's right! Off in the Bahamas with your new wife!"

Jack winced. Janet's death was a sore subject for him, one that he'd never fully coped with, even after all these years. Not to be outdone, though, he continued. "Well, I'm here now! He needs me! Not some floozy gold-digger out to ruin him!"

"Is that any way to talk to the mother of your grandchild?" Cissie hissed.

That floored Jack. He stared at the woman a long while before finding his voice again. "Grandchild?"

Cissie nodded.

"Oh, I see," Jack smiled wryly. "You seduced my son, hoping you would get pregnant, because you knew he would do the honorable thing."

Cissie rolled her eyes. "For your information, Tim proposed to me _before_ I was pregnant."

"Uh huh."

"You don't want to believe me? Fine. When Tim wakes up, he'll confirm everything I just told you." Cissie turned her attention back to her fiancé, and tried to ignore his father.

Jack regarded her for a moment. He didn't want to admit it, but her affection for his son seemed genuine. He took a moment to really look at Tim. When had he gotten so big? Jack was happy to be absent and believe his son was still a little boy; if Tim was still a little boy, that meant he still had Janet.

He looked back up at the young woman. She was very beautiful. He certainly couldn't fault his son for feeling an attraction for her. _The mother of your grandchild..._ the words echoed in his head. He sat down in the armchair on the opposite side of the bed from her.

"How far along are you?" he asked.

Cissie glanced up at the older man before answering. "Nine weeks."

Jack nodded. "So, my boy's going to be a father."

Cissie smiled. "He is. He'll be a wonderful father, too." She looked at her fiancé and took his hand in her own.

Jack furrowed his brow. Lord knew he had failed miserably in the father department. Had he not, he would have been the first to know about the car crash that put his son in a coma. Instead he'd had to read about it in the paper.

Cissie glanced at the man across the bed. She hoped she hadn't been too hard on him. Although, really, he'd had it coming. Still...he was Tim's father. Bruce may have acted more like a father to Tim over the years, but there was no denying that this man would soon be her father-in-law.

Jack looked up when Cissie rose from her chair and came around the bed toward him, some kind of book in her hand. She bit her lip and opened the book.

"I had my first ultrasound the other day. I thought you might like to...you know."

Jack took the book gently from her hands and gazed at the grainy black and white picture.

Cissie pointed to a spot in the picture. "That's the baby."

Jack touched the picture and smiled. He flipped through the currently empty pages of what was obviously intended to be a baby book. "Janet made one of these for Tim."

"Really?" Cissie smiled. He nodded. "I'd like to see that sometime."

"Of course," Jack chuckled. "Can't have you joining the family until you've seen embarrassing baby pictures of Tim."

Cissie's smile widened to a grin. "Oh, I agree."

***

Dick hobbled toward the breakfast nook. He hated crutches. He was supposed to be flying through the air with the greatest of ease, not relying on a couple of sticks to get around. He sighed. Still a ways to go before his leg healed, and even longer before his heart would.

As he approached the kitchen doorway, he bumped into Alfred.

"Sorry, Alfred."

"Quite alright, Master Dick," the butler assured him. The elderly gentleman glanced over his shoulder. "Can I get you anything?"

Dick's brow furrowed. "No, thanks. Is everything alright?"

"I'm afraid the young master has not moved from his seat since breakfast."

Dick sighed. "Thanks, Alfred. I'll take it from here."

"Very well, sir. There are fresh cookies and milk on the table."

Dick grinned. "Of course."

Making his way over to the nook, Dick stopped and looked at his son.

Jimmy was so... small. He was still wearing his Aladdin pajamas, his red hair sticking out at all ends atop his head. He was gazing out the window. The milk and cookies on the table had yet to be touched. In the week since Babs had died, Jimmy had hardly spoken, apart from a mumbled "please" or "thank you," here and there. At least the boy hadn't forgotten his manners; still, everyone was very worried about him.

Dick rested his crutches on the wall and slid in across the table from Jimmy.

"Hey, sport," Dick grinned and grabbed a cookie off the platter. "It's not like you to turn down one of Alfred's world-famous chocolate chip cookies." He shoved the cookie in his mouth. "Mmmm." He poured himself a glass of milk and drank it. "You sure you don't want one?" He shoved the platter toward Jimmy.

The young redhead finally turned to look at his father. What Dick saw in his son's face made him suck in his breath. It was pure, unadulterated anger. Dick recognized it immediately; he'd been there himself, years ago. He immediately sobered.

"Jimmy, hey," he began. "I know what you're going through. Believe me, I do. And it's okay to be angry. I was angry too. Hey, I'm angry now. I know you miss your mom and," he felt the familiar lump in his throat, "and I will never be able to forgive myself for not being able to protect her…" Dick looked down, letting his hair fall down into his face to hide his emotions. He had to be strong now, for Jimmy.

When he trusted himself to face his son again, he saw the unshed tears in Jimmy's eyes. It was all he could do to not lose it again.

"Jimmy..." he reached out to smooth down some of his son's unkempt hair.

Jimmy jerked away from his father, yelling, "I hate you! I hate you! I wish it had been you that died!"

In an instant, the boy had darted away from the table, and run out of the room. Unable to chase after him, Dick yelled back, "So do I!" and threw the glass pitcher of milk at the wall.


	3. Chapter 3

Cissie had fortunately mended a few fences with Tim's father, and felt safe leaving him alone with Tim for awhile. She stepped out of the room, closed the door, and nearly jumped out of her skin when she saw Bruce standing behind it.

"Omigod!" she yelled, forcing herself not to hyperventilate. "Don't ever do that again!" She pointed an accusing finger in the older man's direction.

Bruce smirked. "Sorry," he said, sounding anything but. "Everything okay with Jack?"

"Yes, fine. I thought he should have some time alone with Tim."

Bruce nodded.

"Care to join me for a snack?" she offered.

Bruce smiled a lady-killer grin and offered his arm. "Don't mind if I do."

Cissie blushed, and took his arm. They walked down the stairs to the kitchen together. As they approached, Bruce stopped them and put a finger over his mouth.

Cissie listened intently to the quiet talk coming from the breakfast nook. It was Dick's voice she heard, and he was obviously talking to Jimmy. What she heard next, though, shocked her.

"I hate you! I hate you! I wish it had been you that died!" she heard the little boy scream before he nearly bowled her and Bruce over as he ran out of the room.

"So do I!" she heard Dick yell back.

"James Bruce Gordon-Grayson!" Bruce yelled after the boy. He was furious. Fury was not what the boy needed right now, though.

Cissie put her hand up to Bruce's chest. "Let me," she said before scurrying off to find the little redhead.

***

Bruce nodded approvingly after Cissie as she ran off. He did not trust himself to keep his temper with the boy at that moment. Besides, he knew that Dick was likely hating himself right now and would need Bruce more than Jimmy did.

He sighed and turned the corner into the breakfast nook. He surveyed the scene: shattered glass was everywhere and milk dripped down the wall. Dick sat at the table fighting back tears, and lightly hitting his head on the wall behind him.

"Stop that," Bruce commanded.

Dick stopped. "He hates me, Bruce. He hates me, and you know what? I don't blame him."

"He doesn't hate you, Dick. He's angry. He doesn't understand what he's feeling. He wants someone to blame for his mother's death. You sought vengeance too, once. It just so happened that, in your case, Zucco _did_ kill your parents."

"He's right, you know. It should have been me."

"No," Bruce stated firmly. He slid in next to Dick. "I don't ever want to hear you say that, or anything like that again. Barbara's death was tragic, and we are all mourning her, but don't you dare for a second think that I would trade your life for hers."

Dick let out a hollow chuckle. "Really? I don't see how that's possible. We all relied on the all-knowing Oracle for anything and everything. Me? I'm just a soldier."

Bruce gritted his teeth. "How can you even think that? You're... you're my _son_."

"I'm just looking at it logically, Bruce. Oracle was, overall, far more valuable than Nightwing ever could be."

"I'm not talking about Nightwing, I'm talking about you!" Bruce yelled. That shocked Dick. Bruce sighed. This was not easy for him, this... talking about feelings… thing. "Dick ... when they found you, and you weren't breathing... I couldn't do anything. I wasn't there, I couldn't even see you, I couldn't help you. All I could think was that I would never see you again. I'd never hear your laugh again, or have to put up with your ridiculous puns. And the thought of that, of my worst fears coming true…" he shuddered. "I don't want to think what I would have done if you'd died that day."

Bruce dared to look up at his son, even though he knew that the mask he normally used to conceal his emotions was slipping badly. Dick's eyes were wide with wonder. Bruce hated that Dick was shocked to hear his revelation, but he knew that it was his own fault. He hadn't exactly been a model father, and it was no surprise that, consequently, his kids doubted his love for them.

Dick's grin nearly split his face in half. "You'd miss my puns?"

Bruce rolled his eyes and swatted Dick's knee. "Don't let it go to your head."

"Of course not, sir," Dick gave him a cheeky salute. He turned and rested his head on the wall again. "I should clean that up," he stated.

Bruce nodded. "It can wait."

"What am I going to do, Bruce?" Dick sounded small and lost. "I can't raise them on my own."

"You won't have to. We're all here for you, Dick. Me, Selina, Alfred, Tim, when he wakes up, even Martha."

Dick snorted. "Martha isn't exactly kid-friendly, Bruce. Remember when she babysat for us when the twins were still babies? She put their diapers on their _heads_."

Bruce smirked. "She was merely teaching them the importance of proper headgear in dangerous situations. Something _you_ ought to have picked up at some point."

"Omigod. You did that, didn't you? I remember! Selina was taking a nap and you were changing her diaper, and you actually put one on her head! And that's what you said too, you were going on about the importance of wearing a helmet." Dick started howling with laughter.

"Head traumas are not to be taken lightly," Bruce stated indignantly, although he was smiling inwardly.

"Seriously, Bruce," Dick gasped between laughs. "A diaper?"

"They don't make helmets that small."

Dick's laughter continued until he couldn't breath. When his breath returned, however, the laughter vanished, replaced by body-wracking sobs.

"Oh God, I miss her, Bruce," he gasped.

Bruce pulled his son to him and held him tightly. "I know, son, I know."

***

Jimmy was fast, but not so fast that Cissie wasn't able to trail him. She followed him out through the kitchen, up the giant stairwell, down the main hallway, and then through the maze that was the West Wing. Cissie had never been to this part of the manor before. There were no lights on; the sunlight coming through the large windows provided all the illumination. It was kind of eerie that their footsteps were the only sounds echoing through the hallways.

Several yards ahead of her, Cissie saw Jimmy duck into one of the rooms. She followed. In the doorway, she stopped to survey the room. It was immaculate, and gave off an aura of a time long gone. _This must be Bruce's parents' old room, _she thought. She then noticed that the closet door was open.

"Jimmy?" she approached the door. "Jimmy, it's me, Cissie."

"Go away!" The boy's voice was muffled. How far in the closet was he?

"Jimmy, I know you're hurting. I just want to help." She opened the door wider and took a step inside. She saw tiny feet sticking out from behind a mink coat. "Please, can you come out here? I'd like to see your handsome face." She smiled.

Blue eyes peered out from behind the coat. "Is he mad?"

"Is who mad, sweetie?" Cissie squatted down so she was at child-level.

"Daddy."

"I don't know, sweetheart. I think he's sad. I'll bet you're sad too."

The only answer she got was silence.

She sighed and sat down in the doorway, realizing Jimmy was not ready to come out yet. "Are you mad at your Daddy?"

No answer.

"It's okay to be angry, Jimmy. My mom died too, remember? You came to the funeral with your Mom and Dad."

Jimmy nodded.

"I was angry too. So angry. I wanted to hurt someone. But you know what? I only ended up hurting myself."

"Why did Mommy have to die?" Jimmy's voice was so quiet that she almost didn't hear it.

Cissie choked back a lump in her throat. "I don't know, sweetie."

"Is she... Does it hurt? To die?"

"I don't know," she answered honestly.

"M.K. says it's like going to sleep. Is that true?" It was obvious to Cissie that the boy was desperately seeking for answers.

"Um... well, I guess in a way it is."

"Is Uncle Tim dead?"

"What? No. No, Uncle Tim is just... Uncle Tim is going to wake up and be all better." Cissie fought the urge to hyperventilate.

"But… but he won't wake up, and you don't wake up when you're dead. Mommy didn't wake up." The boy started sobbing. "Daddy tried to wake her up, but she wouldn't, even though her eyes were open."

"Oh, baby." Cissie crawled into the closet and pulled Jimmy close. "I know. I know, you're hurting."

"I don't want Uncle Tim to die too!" He clutched desperately at Cissie.

Cissie's voice was hoarse from trying to hold back her own tears. "He _won't._ He's going to wake up, just you wait."

"But M.K.—"

"Never mind M.K. You listen to me. Tim is going to wake up, and we're going to get married, and everything's going to be just fine," she said, trying to convince herself, as much as she was Jimmy.

"I want my M-mom," he gasped between sobs.

"Shh. I know, baby." She stroked his hair, rocking him back and forth. "But you know what? Your mom will always be with you, just like my mom is with me. I'll bet she's watching over you right now."

"She'd be mad."

"Why would she be mad, sweetheart?"

"Cuz I yelled at Daddy."

"I think she'd understands. And even if she's upset, that doesn't mean she doesn't love you."

"I didn't mean it! I don't want Daddy to die! I want Daddy to live forever and ever!" His cries grew louder and more desperate.

Cissie bit her lip. Now was probably not the time to explain that no one lived forever. "That's it. Let it all out."

Jimmy's words grew less and less coherent. Cissie just kept rocking him and soothing him as he cried. His tears soaked through the shoulder of her shirt.

Some time passed, Cissie wasn't quite sure how much, but Jimmy had grown silent. She furrowed her brow, looked down at the boy, and sighed. He'd cried himself to sleep.

_Poor thing, _she thought. _I'd better get him to bed and let Dick know he's okay. Well... sort of okay. _

She picked the boy up and carried him down several hallways to his room. He'd worn himself out and would probably sleep through to dinnertime. She tucked him in and closed the curtains in his room before she bent down to kiss him on the forehead.

"Sleep well, little Jimmy. We'll all be here when you wake up."

***

Martha finally emerged from her bedroom just before noon. Alfred met her on the giant stairway on his way to gather laundry.

"Ah, good morning, Miss Martha," he greeted. "I trust you slept well this… morning?"

Martha smirked. She had indeed slept entirely through the morning hours, as the Bat had not returned from patrol until after four o'clock in the morning. "Yes, Alfred. Thank you."

"There is a plate for you in the refrigerator ready to be heated up. If you would prefer, I can cook something fresher."

"No, thanks." She scurried down the stairs and headed toward the kitchen.

As she swung through the breakfast nook intent on her mission for food, she stopped. Her father was in there with Dick, who had obviously been crying. They were talking quietly. Martha bit her lip and frowned. Oh, she was not good with this kind of situation, and yet, there was no avoiding it if she was to get to the food. A loud grumble from her stomach reminded her that skipping breakfast was not an option.

She braved a step into the room, a broad grin on her face. "So a couple of cripples walk into a bar..."

Bruce glared at her while Dick chuckled.

"Hey, Sis," Dick greeted softly.

Bruce was less amused. "Your joke is illogical. If your subjects are indeed physically handicapped, there is no way they could walk anywhere. Hobble, perhaps..."

Martha rolled her eyes and slid into the seat opposite her mentors, grabbing a cookie. "Geez, lighten up, Dad." She immediately frowned and looked down. "I think I just sat in milk."

The corner of Bruce's mouth turned up slightly. Dick let out a loud laugh.

"Now, now," Dick wagged his finger at her. "Mind your surroundings."

"Watch it, Crutchy. I won't hesitate to take you down."

"Ha! Like you could!"

Martha started counting off points on her fingers. "One: you have a handicap. Two: you're easily distracted. Three: I'm younger..."

Bruce allowed himself a small smile. He could not remember the last time he and his children had really gotten to spend time together. It was good to hear them bantering and bickering again. He had taken it for granted before, and he wouldn't make that mistake again.


	4. Chapter 4

The midday sun shone through the window onto Tim's face. Jack could not help but feel like he was looking at the face of a stranger. Tim was so... old. Christ, what was he now? Twenty-eight? Twenty-nine?

Jack leaned forward in his chair and rubbed his face roughly with both hands. Okay, so he wasn't old, but when the most vivid memories you have of a person are from when he was a toddler, running naked through the backyard, 'just shy of thirty' seems ancient. And now, what? His son was going to be a father, himself?

He was startled out of his thoughts by the door opening.

"Oh, excuse me," a woman apologized. "I didn't think anyone was in here. I was just going to start Timothy's session for today."

Jack looked up and felt his breath catch in his throat. The blonde before him couldn't be more than forty. She was beautiful, and seeing her, Jack felt a spark that he had not felt in ages.

Brown eyes blinked at him. "Sir? Do you mind?"

Jack cleared his throat. "Session?"

She smiled. "Physical therapy. Mr. Wayne hired me. Dana Winters." She held out her hand. "And you are…?"

Jack took her hand and shook it. "I'm Tim's father. Jack Drake."

Her eyes widened in surprise. "Oh. I didn't realize you would be here, Mr. Drake. Mr. Wayne said they were unable to get in touch with you."

Jack's jaw tightened. "Well, they found me." He softened. "And please, call me Jack."

"Of course, Jack." She moved over to the bed. "Do you mind if I get started?"

"Not at all." He watched as she moved the bedding aside and began her work.

"Your son is lucky. He's in extremely good shape. The injuries he sustained in that wreck… a weaker body likely wouldn't have..." She noticed the hard look on Jack's face. "But he's here now, and we expect him to make a full recovery, so you needn't worry."

Jack nodded.

"I have to ask, though," she continued. "Does he play soccer, or something?"

"Soccer?" Jack furrowed his brow. "No, I don't think so. He just got his masters from Hudson U in computer engineering. I don't think he plays any sports."

"Well, he has to do _something_ to get a body like this." She looked Jack up and down. "I suppose it could just be inherited, though."

Jack actually felt a blush come to his cheeks. "I'm really not sure what Tim does in his spare time." He rubbed the back of his neck, nervously. "I'm usually overseas."

"Ah. That would be why it was hard to get a hold of you, I suppose."

"Yeah..."

Dana observed the man in the room with her. He was clearly distraught, and understandably so. His son was in a coma, and while the doctors were doing everything in their power to bring him out of it, they all knew that each day that Tim did not wake up was one more day that he slipped a little further away from them.

* * *

Cissie wiped her mouth on a nearby towel and looked in the mirror. She frowned at her reflection. She'd always known about the morning sickness that plagued pregnant women, but she hadn't counted on the midday sickness, the afternoon sickness, the evening sickness, the general motion sickness that often came about just from standing up too fast...

…And now the tears.

"Damn it," she muttered through her sobs. She grabbed a few tissues and sat down on the toilet seat.

Cissie felt so incredibly alone. Everything had happened so fast. Barbara dead. Tim... It hurt to think about Tim. Generally, Cissie was too sensible than to believe in such things as a soul mate, but if such a thing existed, Tim was hers. She was, of course, extremely grateful to Bruce and the rest of the family for doing what they could to get her through this, but none of them were Tim. She wanted Tim to be the one with her when she had her doctor's appointments, and she wanted it to be Tim who was reading the parenting books with her.

She didn't allow herself to think about what would happen if Tim never woke up. If she allowed herself those kinds of thoughts, she would break. Instead, she focused on the life she and Tim were going to have together. Tim was going to wake up, they were going to get married, and have their own home, and bring up their child together, maybe get a dog...

She sighed and wiped her face. The tears had stopped as quickly as they had come. Cissie decided to resume her search for Dick, the search that had been stalled when she had been attacked by the bout of nausea that had brought her to this bathroom.

When she wandered downstairs, she heard Alfred's voice coming from the parlour. Alfred always seemed to know where everyone was at any given times, so she decided to ask him.

"Alfred, have you seen- Oh!" When she stepped into the parlour, there was no Alfred, only Selina curled up in a blanket with a number of cats around her, sipping a cup of tea.

Selina smiled. "Cissie, hello."

Cissie blushed furiously. For some reason, Selina made her extremely nervous. She was just so elegant and classy that she made Cissie feel like the ever unimpressive frump woman. "I'm sorry, I thought I heard Alfred."

"You did. He was serving me tea."

"I was just looking for Dick..."

"I haven't seen him." There was an awkward silence. "Cissie, please," Selina began, gesturing to the chair beside her, "join me."

Cissie took a few hesitant steps to the chair across from Selina and sat down.

"Bruce tells me you're expecting," Selina stated.

Cissie nodded.

"You must be excited."

Cissie let out a nervous laugh. "Terrified, actually."

The dark haired beauty across from her grinned. "Well, of course. But you can't tell me you aren't at least a little bit excited."

Cissie smiled. "Well, yes. It certainly, uh, well, it keeps me going."

Selina's expression sobered and she nodded. "How are you holding up, hon?"

"I wish people would stop asking me that," she snapped. She immediately regretted it. "I'm sorry. I'm just... I miss Tim."

"We all do, honey." Selina reached across and squeezed Cissie's hand. "I've known Tim nearly all his life, yes, even before he became Robin. I've always thought that, out of all of the family, he had the best chance at a normal life. Seeing you here, now, I know he still has that chance."

"_If_ he wakes up." Cissie could not help her own doubt.

"He will," Selina said firmly. "If Bruce can bounce back from a broken back, and Dick can survive Blackgate, Tim will pull through this with flying colors. He was trained by them, you know."

"I hope so. I don't think I can do this alone."

Selina stroked the young woman's blonde hair. "You won't. No matter what happens, you and your child will never be alone."

Cissie smiled weakly. "Thanks... I really should find Dick. He's going to want to know what happened with Jimmy."

Selina furrowed her brow, but decided not to ask any further questions. "Of course."

* * *

Cissie walked through the breakfast nook into the kitchen. Surely Dick would be somewhere in here. It was the last place she'd seen him. Much to her dismay she found only the Waynes' daughter.

"Good Lord, where has that man gone?" she cried out in exasperation.

Martha quirked an eyebrow. "Which one? This house is practically crawling with them."

"Kitty..."

"Martha."

"Right, sorry. Old habits die hard," she said, referring back to their Young Justice days. Then, the woman before her had told her teammates her name was 'Kitty'.

"Hungry?" Martha slid the platter of sandwich fixings across the table toward her.

"Starved."

Martha watched her make a sandwich with a rather ... odd combination of ingredients. "So..." she ventured. "You and Tim."

Cissie pursed her lips and nodded. "Me and Tim."

There was a moment of silence.

"Do you… not approve, or something?" Cissie accused.

Dark eyebrows shot up. "That's not it at all. I was just thinking it was about time."

"About time?"

"Yeah. The way you guys always danced around each other when we were kids used to drive me crazy."

"Really? Why didn't you say anything?"

Martha shrugged. "Timmy's a smart boy. I figured he'd get a clue and do something about it. I was naive enough to think that men were capable of rational thought when it came to women. I was wrong."

Cissie laughed. "Well, it's not like I did anything about it either."

"True. I guess you're both clueless."

"Hey!" Cissie threw a pickle at her former teammate.

The brunette dodged the pickle and smirked. "So, who were you looking for?"

"Your brother," the archer answered between bites. "I got Jimmy settled down in his room. He was sleeping when I left."

Martha nodded. "I think he was just headed to Jimmy's room, actually. Alfred told him he could find him there."

"Alfred? How did Alfred know? I haven't even seen him."

"Ah ah ah." A slender, elegant finger wagged. "Down through the ages, there has been one constant in Wayne Manor, and that is this: Alfred knows all and sees all."

"I thought that was Bruce's territory."

A Cheshire cat grin answered back, "Where do you think Dad learned it from?"

* * *

Cissie was surprised to hear laughter as she approached Tim's room. When she slowly opened the door, she was greeted by the sight of Dana Winters, Tim's physical therapist, and Jack Drake, Tim's father, laughing up a storm over cups of tea.

"And then he says, 'Mommy, you know I can't drive!'" Jack guffawed.

Cissie cleared her throat and smirked.

"Oh, hey, Cissie. Jack was just telling me some of the wackier things Tim did when he was little," Dana greeted her.

"I thought _I_ was supposed to get all the embarrassing Tim stories," Cissie teased, walking over to her fiancé. She stroked his hand gently and sat down in the chair next to him.

Jack felt a pang of guilt. Of course, he really _should_ be bonding with Cissie. She was the mother of his grandchild, and he was really starting to think that she truly did love Tim.

"Well, I've got to get going. I have a session with Dick before I leave. Is he in the gym?" Dana interrupted.

Cissie winced. "Um… actually, no. He… Dick's dealing with some stuff right now, with Jimmy. I don't know that he's really going to be up for a session today, but I can check with Bruce…" she started to rise from her chair.

"No, Sweetie, that's okay. I'll find him. In his study?" Dana queried.

"Probably," Cissie sighed. "You know how he is. Work, work, work."

Dana smiled and nodded. "Yeah, I know. You take it easy, okay, Hon?"

"Thanks, Dana."

"Here, I'll walk you," Jack offered.

After a moment, Cissie was alone again with Tim.

"I think your dad likes her," Cissie commented, smiling at Tim. The only response was a beep from the monitors he was attached to. Her smile faltered.

"Tim," she ran a hand through his hair. "Please, come back. I can't do this without you."

When she again received no response, Cissie let the fatigue that she'd been ignoring all morning take over. As she drifted off, she did not notice the hand she was holding gently squeeze her own .


	5. Chapter 5

_Sorry it's been so long since the last update guys! I already have the next chapter in the works, so hopefully not so long on the next one! Please R&R!_

* * *

If there was one thing a Bat hated, it was not being able to do anything to resolve the chaos around him. That was exactly the predicament in which Tim now found himself. He could hear everything going on in his vicinity. He could feel every time Cissie held his hand or touched his face. He could feel the bed shake each time she lay next to him and cried uncontrollably. Yet, he could not hold her; he could not comfort her, and he could not tell her everything was going to be okay. He could only listen.

He listened to Alfred converse with him as though he were actually able to respond. He listened as his father flirted with his physical therapist and told Cissie embarrassing tales from Tim's childhood. He listened to Dick babble on and on about anything and everything under the sun before finally breaking down because his wife was dead and he didn't know how to fix his family. He listened to the soothing sound of Selina's voice reading to him from his favorite books. He listened to Cissie's comments on the baby books she'd been reading and the outrageous meals she craved and swore up and down were fine cuisine. He listened to the palpable silence whenever Bruce came to see him on his own; nothing was ever said but Tim knew what he meant regardless.

Tim could hear everything, but he could do nothing. His heart broke for them all. His family and friends were all broken and he wanted to fix them. He had to wake up.

* * *

Cissie was fighting with her knitting needles again, when Dr. Jon Kent and Dr. Leslie Thompkins entered Tim's room.

"Dagnabbit! Stupid, useless, ARGH!" She threw the knitting across the room, not caring that the ball of yarn unrolled, trailing a mess of yarn that resembled silly string.

Jon peered over his glasses at her. "Having issues?"

"Whoever invented knitting hated me," she sulked.

"So why do it?" Jon moved over to the bed to start his examination.

"Because I'm fat and pregnant, and that's what we fat pregnant women do. We knit booties and bibs!"

Jon howled with laughter. "Cissie, you're not even showing, yet."

"Well, I feel fat," the blonde pouted.

Leslie smiled kindly. "That's the hormones. Come on, Cissie; why don't we go into the next room for your examination?"

"Yeah, fine," she grumbled.

Jon watched the women leave. "Oh Timmy," he chuckled after the door closed behind them, "you are going to have your hands full when you come out of this."

* * *

"Everything looks fine," Leslie declared, turning the ultrasound machine off.

"Really? My baby's okay?" Cissie asked eagerly.

"More than okay," Leslie assured her. "Now, how are you doing?"

Cissie shrugged, pulling her pants back on. "The same. Nauseous, a lot. Tired. Emotional."

Leslie sat on the setee by the window. "Those are common pregnancy symptoms. Now, tell me how _you_ are doing."

Cissie furrowed her brow. "I just told you…"

Leslie shook her head. "No. You spouted off symptoms that, quite frankly, I'd be concerned if you weren't experiencing. I want to know how _Cissie _is."

Cissie did not answer. She just crossed her arms and appeared to take keen interest in her toes.

"Pending motherhood is a stressful time for any woman, Cissie, and you have so much more than that on your plate."

"I don't know where I fit in, here," Cissie mumbled.

Leslie nodded.

"Everyone keeps saying they're there for me and everything, but how can they be when they really don't know me? I'm not their daughter, or sister, or even a really close cousin."

"You're lonely."

Cissie nodded.

"Cissie," Leslie stood up and walked over to the young woman, placing her hands gently on her shoulders, "can I tell you something?"

Cissie looked up and nodded.

"As I'm sure you know, very few members of the Wayne family are actually related by blood. Nevertheless, they all love each other deeply, even if they may not be able to express it all of the time. Richard and Bruce are on speaking terms now, but it was not always that way. Why, Martha has only just entered back into our lives after disappearing for seven years! Look, my point is… everyone in this family is here for a reason, and I have never seen anyone as readily accepted into the family as you have been."

"You really think so?"

"I really do. Now, about this fear you have that Tim will think you've left him…"

"Let me guess. Hormones?"

"Probably," Leslie smirked. "Look, a weekend trip to your father's may be asking too much, but when's the last time you left the house?"

"I stepped out on the patio the other day for some fresh air," Cissie declared indignantly.

Leslie quirked an eyebrow. That simply wasn't going to do.

* * *

Selina tapped lightly on the door before she walked in. She found Jon in the midst of examining Tim.

She smiled. "Jon," she glided across the room to envelop him in a hug. "How _are_ you?"

"Fine, Mrs. K," he grinned.

"And how is _he_?" Her age lines barely showed as she crinkled her brow in concern.

"Stable," was Jon's somber reply. "Vital signs are good, brain activity is there. He's probably spying on us right now."

"That's a good birdie," Selina purred and stroked Tim's hand.

"Ah, Selina!" Leslie's cheery voice interrupted them. "Just who the doctor ordered."

Selina turned and smiled warmly at Leslie and Cissie in the doorway. "Leslie, what can I do for you?"

"Actually, Cissie just needs to get out of the house for a bit. I thought, maybe a little shopping therapy might help."

A Cheshire-cat grin spread across Selina's face. "Oh, I concur. Cissie, why don't you change out of those sweats and then we can be on our way."

Cissie flushed. "I don't want to be any trouble."

"Nonsense, I love shopping. How do you think I've been able to stay away from thieving all these years?"

* * *

Selina knew how to show a girl a day out on the town. After spending what Cissie had to assume were obscene amounts of money on clothes for the both of them (including chic maternity wear for Cissie to wear later in her pregnancy), the ladies chose a nice bistro for lunch.

They enjoyed their meal in near-silence. The whole day had been mostly silent, save for Selina's attempts at conversation.

Selina frowned slightly. "Cissie, I can't help but notice… Do I make you uncomfortable?"

Cissie made a valiant effort to not choke on her sandwich. "Wh-what? Why would you ask that?" The blonde attempted a reassuring smile, but it wavered.

Selina leaned back in her chair. "You avoid me, for one. You were reluctant to come out with me today. You haven't said much all day, except to agree with whatever I am saying."

Cissie gulped. "I'm sorry. It's just… I feel so ugly around you."

Selina's eyebrows shot up at that. "Now, how is that possible?"

"Um, hello, have you looked in a mirror lately?"

"Have _you_? You're an exceptionally beautiful woman, Cissie. Don't ever doubt that."

Cissie blushed. "Okay. Fine. I'm pretty, but I'm not elegant and sophisticated like you are. I loved her, but my Mom was kind of trashy. I'm terrified I'm going to end up just like her, and I'm scared Tim's going to see it and not want me anymore."

"Cissie, what makes you think Tim wants you to be anything like me?"

The blonde shrugged. "I don't know. I guess it just feels like our backgrounds are too different, you know? Him with the being filthy rich, me with the psychotic mom deemed unfit to raise me."

Selina laughed. "Oh, Cissie, you don't think I've always been like this, do you?" At Cissie's perplexed gaze, Selina chuckled again. "I grew up in the East End of Gotham," she winked.

Now it Cissie's eyebrows that shot up. "And I thought I had it rough."

"Less intimidated now?"

"Well, intimidated in a different way at least," Cissie smirked.

The women laughed together. Then, the ice broken, their conversation turned to pedicures and facials.

* * *

Bruce closed the door silently behind him and observed Jon and Leslie at work with their patient. The doctors nodded their greetings to him, knowing he did not like his presence announced. When they had finished, Leslie and Bruce met in the hallway, leaving Jon to wrap things up.

"How is he?" Bruce asked.

"Good. The same. Time will tell." Leslie had had this conversation with him many times.

"I'm surprised Cissie wasn't in there."

"I convinced her to get some fresh air, so to speak. Your wife took her shopping."

Bruce quirked an eyebrow. "Heaven help her." He almost smirked.

"Bruce, have any of Cissie's family been around lately?"

"Connor and Roy come by now and then, but not often. Why?"

"I think Cissie's a bit lonely here at the Manor. It would be good for her to have some familiar faces around."

Bruce bristled. "We're familiar."

"Bruce, you're about as familiar as a porcupine, and that's coming from someone who's known you your whole life," Leslie stated firmly but kindly.

Bruce frowned. "She doesn't want to leave Tim."

"No," Leslie agreed. "Look, Thanksgiving is just around the corner. Why don't you invite her family to join you here? Cissie won't have to worry about leaving Tim, she'll have her family around her, and you'll get a chance to bond with your future in-laws."

Bruce clenched his jaw. "I think I've bonded enough with Ollie."

Leslie smiled sweetly. "Oh, Bruce, just remember: It's for Cissie."


	6. Chapter 6

_Wow! I can't believe how long this chapter has been sitting around waiting to be published. I'll have you all know, one of my New Year's Resolutions is to publish at least one chapter of fanfic each week. Now, it might not always be for this fic or fandom, but that's the plan, Stan! _

* * *

Alfred rose at 5:00 every morning, but this morning was especially important. Despite the recent tragedies the family had endured, it somehow meant a larger gathering for Thanksgiving Dinner.

After showering and dressing, Alfred strode down to the kitchen to commence the preparations for the meal. There was something peaceful about being up at this hour. Most everyone was asleep, even the masked vigilantes he kept charge of, as they tended to roll in at about 4:00 a.m. at the latest.

To the butler's surprise, however, he was not the only one awake at this hour.

He found one of his youngest charges curled up in the breakfast nook with her blanket, gazing out the window, the moonlight gleaming on her jet black curls.

"Why good morning, Miss MK," Alfred smiled kindly.

MK gave Alfred a smile she could have only inherited from her father. "Morning, Alfie."

"And why, might I ask, are we out of bed so early this morning?"

The child shrugged. "Couldn't sleep. Why are _you_ up so early?"

"I am always up this early, my child."

She crinkled her little brow in thought. "You're always up this early and you're always there to tuck me into bed. Do Alfreds never sleep?"

Alfred chuckled. "It certainly seems that way at times."

* * *

The Manor was relatively quiet. The only sounds Bruce could hear through the open study door were of Jimmy and MK assisting Alfred with meal preparations in the kitchen. Dick and Martha were still in bed despite it being almost noon. Cissie and Selina had gone for a walk through a rose garden and the guests had yet to arrive.

The doorbell chimed. Bruce heard Alfred chatting amicably with Jim as he made his way from the study to the foirer.

"Jim," he smiled and shook the Commissioner's hand as Alfred disappeared back into the kitchen to ensure his sous-chefs had not destroyed the place. "How are you?"

Jim nodded, puffing his moustache out a bit. "Doing okay."

Bruce nodded, the unspoken words between them loud enough to cut the thick air with a knife. "We're glad you could make it."

"Glad I could get away from the station. Things have been remarkably calm lately. You know, for Gotham."

Bruce grunted in affirmation. The two men meandered into the parlour. "Brandy?" Bruce offered.

"Scotch, if you have it."

Bruce poured two Scotches and joined Jim on the sofa.

"Been awhile since we've seen you, Jim."

"It's always been hard for me to be here, Bruce. All this fancy stuff. The butler and all. I'm a cop. The only other time I step into homes like this is when they've been robbed."

"It's been difficult for us to get away from the Manor, what with the boys…"

Jim nodded his understanding. "How are they doing?" When Bruce hesitated, Jim asked again, "How's Dick?"

"His leg is healing well. We've hired an excellent physical therapist to see him through the process."

"But how is _he_?"

Bruce let out a huff of air. "He's… coping." Feeling Jim's eyes on him, he caved. "He's taking it really hard. He thinks the whole thing was his fault. I just wish he was nine again. Somehow it's easier to comfort a child, or at least distract them. But he's a man now with children of his own. I can't just pretend everything is okay."

"I didn't really talk to him at the funeral. I was too angry at the world for taking my daughter away to see past my own nose."

"I know that feeling."

"I think we all do."

They were interrupted by a seven year old catapulting through the door.

"Grampa! Grampa!" MK launched herself into Jim's lap.

"Miss Mary Katherine!" Alfred followed quickly after her, his feathers clearly ruffled. "My apologies, Master Bruce, Commissioner."

"No trouble at all, Alfred." Jim grinned and tickled his granddaughter mercilessly.

Jimmy peeked in the room with a smirk before quietly walking over to the sofa to sit between his grandfathers. Selina and Cissie walked in from the opposite door at that exact moment.

"Jim! How good to see you!" Selina strolled over. Jim settled MK down and sat her next to her brother so as to embrace Selina.

"Selina, enchanting as always," he greeted gruffly.

"Have you met Cissie?" Selina pulled Cissie up beside her. "Cissie, this is Commissioner Jim Gordon, Jimmy and MK's grandfather. Jim, this is Cissie King-Jones, Tim's fiancée."

"It's a pleasure," Jim shook her hand.

"Nice to meet you," Cissie smiled back.

The doorbell chimed.

"If you will excuse me," Alfred calmly left to answer the door. He returned shortly after. "Miss Cissie, I believe it is for you."

Cissie furrowed her brow and stepped out of the parlor to find her father, Roy, Connor and Lian all on the otherside.

"Dad!"

Ollie gave her a smile. "Hey, sweetheart. Happy Thanksgiving."

Cissie wrapped her arms around his waist, pulling him into a hug. Ollie wrapped his arms awkwardly around her. Cissie tried to ignore the cool feel of the steel prosthetic arm wrapped around her left shoulder. It operated well enough, but they both knew Ollie would never draw the bow and arrow again.

"I didn't know you guys were coming," Cissie moved to hug Roy, Connor and Lian.

"Bruce wanted to surprise you," Connor hugged his sister. "Happy Thanksgiving."

"Bruce invited you?" Cissie choked a little.

"Uh, yeah," Ollie rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. "I hope it's not an issue."

"No," Cissie started blubbering, tears streaming down her face. "No problem at all. Ex-excuse me"

Cissie rushed back into the parlour. She made her way over to where Bruce had just stood. "You," she sobbed, "are the sweetest, most thoughtful man I think I've ever met."

Dick chose this moment to enter the parlour, hearing Cissie's words and seeing her hug Bruce tightly, sobbing into his chest. Convinced he had just walked into the twilight zone, he turned on his crutches, announcing "I'm going back to bed."

* * *

Everything was going well. Bruce and Ollie were actually being civil to one another and Roy had managed to make Dick laugh. A lot. That was quite a feat these days.

It all came to a screeching halt when the final guest arrived. All eyes froze on Jack Drake when Alfred ushered him into the parlour.

"Who invited him?" Bruce growled into Selena's ear.

"I did," she smiled. Ignoring the Bat-glare Bruce had aimed at her, she continued, "We have his only son in our care and he has no one else. If you're going to glare at someone glare at Roy for eating all the crab puffs."

Cissie was the first to actually greet Jack. "Mr. Drake," she smiled, "I'd like you to meet my family. This is my dad, Oliver Queen, my brothers, Roy Harper and Connor Hawke, and my niece, Lian. Guys, this is Tim's dad, Jack Drake."

Jack grinned. "Queen, it's been ages." He tried to hide his shock at the touch of cold metal when he shook Ollie's hand.

"Drake," Ollie plastered on a smile. "I should have known Tim was yours."

"And how did you manage to raise such a lovely young lady?" Jack smiled at Cissie.

Cissie bit her lip, hoping Ollie would overlook Jack's lack of information about her upbringing. Thankfully, he did.

"It happens," Ollie chuckled gruffly.

* * *

Martha had yet to make her appearance downstairs. With everyone gathered downstairs for the holiday festivities, she decided to take this opportunity to see Tim. She had not visited him in the six weeks since the battle. Six weeks since he had been rendered comatose. There was no predicting how she would react to seeing her best friend in this state.

She wasn't sure how long she had been staring at the door. It could have been five minutes or an hour. Finally, she opened the door. She inhaled sharply at the sight of his pale body hooked up to the tubes and machines.

She swallowed a lump in her throat, finding her voice. "You need to get a tan." She snorted. "Who am I kidding? You're always pasty."

She sat in the chair by his bed. "You're missing one hell of a meal. Alfred's Thanksgiving Feast." She scowled when he did not respond. "Tim… You know I'm not good at this. Normally I'd have you in a headlock by now. Would you please crawl out of whatever hole you're hiding in? You picked a hell of a time to go all comatose on us. Dick's injured, Cissie's all pregnant and grieving, Babs is d-" She choked back the tears that threatened to fall for the woman she had loved like a sister.

"You do _not_ get to leave us. Not yet." She stood up. "Do you hear me Tim? You have to wake up!"

Dark blue eyes opened, unfocused, darting around the room.

"Tim?" Martha's own blue eyes grew wide. "Omigod." She pressed the call button by Tim's bed.

Within moments, Tim was fully awake. He gasped deeply, fighting the respirator. This led to hyperventilation and panic. Martha tried to restrain him as he started to rip wires out of his arm, trying to get up.

She hit the call button again and yelled into the intercom, "Dad, I need you!"

* * *

"Dad, I need you!" echoed through the Manor as everyone started migrating toward the dining room.

"Miss Martha?" Alfred wondered out loud.

"She's in Tim's room," Bruce furrowed his brow.

"What's wrong?" Cissie rushed out the door, followed by Jack and Bruce.

They raced up the stairs, the rest of the party following after.

Jack reached the room first. "What is it?" he burst through the door to find Martha struggling with his son. He swiftly moved to Tim's side.

"Tim. Tim! It's Dad. It's okay, just calm down."

"Tim?" Cissie bolted through the door. "Omigod."

When Tim's eyes fell on Cissie he stopped struggling. He was still fighting the respirator, so his breath was erratic.

Cissie moved to his side. "Help me," she commanded Martha and started to removed the medical tape holding the respirator in place.

"We should wait for the doctor," Jack insisted.

"I took a few nursing classes during one of Mom's longer remissions. I know how to do this," Cissie explained.

Martha quickly started removing medical tape as well and helped Tim to sit up.

"Okay, sweetie, I need you to take a deep breath in and then we'll take it out, okay?"

Tim nodded. He hadn't taken his eyes off her face since she entered the room.

"Okay, one, two, three," Cissie started. Tim inhaled deeply. "And one, two, three!" Cissie continued then pulled the respirator out.

Tim coughed at length. Alfred, ever prepared, rushed over with a cup of ice chips. Tim crunched on them and swallowed them greedily. Finally, he turned back to Cissie, barely rasping out an "Ahhhh"

"Shhhh, don't speak yet," she gently placed her fingers over his mouth. Tears were streaming down her face.

Tim shakily lifted his hands to her face. He gently ran his fingers across her forehead, nose, cheeks, lips… anything he could touch he touched. He didn't need to speak for Cissie to know he was asking, _Are you okay?_

"I'm fine," she answered. "We're fine now. Everything's okay."

Tim relaxed some. One hand wandered down to her belly.

Cissie smiled even brighter and nodded. "We're having a baby."

He kissed her deeply, paying no mind to the large audience that had gathered in his doorway.

* * *

_Yay! Finally some good news for the Bat Clan! Please R&R!_


End file.
